


Punch

by elderprices



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 20:38:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5063275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elderprices/pseuds/elderprices
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor and Steve make their own fun when they decide prom is a bust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Punch

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little reference to a reoccurring theme in my multichapter "Accountabilibuddyable", though this reads as a standalone piece and doesn't necessarily have to go hand in hand with the other fic.

The ice in the punch had melted. The whole thing was a warm, diluted, artificial bowl of pink. Completely undesirable, completely useless. But next to the bowl, oh–now _there_ was something useful. An attractive five feet eleven inches, cleaned up from all those muddy lacrosse games in a tailored tux. Smiling from across the room with that Invisalign-perfected smile. Waving a hand. Waving at–who, _him_? Out of the entire junior-senior crowd?

Oh, yes. Very useful indeed.

They made conversation. Lighthearted, very vague conversation. Steve liked to laugh. His giggle had matured into something genuine, something manly and so unlike what came out of Connor’s own mouth. Contrast. The contrast was poetic.

An hour passed with them hovering over the punch bowl. Talking. Reminiscing. Stupid stuff like “remember when we had that science project” and “what about when I came with you to church that one time” and “did I make this up, or did you kiss me in my basement closet at my birthday party?” Friendly stuff. The music slowed to a waltz at arms’ length apart. Connor made a backhanded comment about his date, out on the gym floor with some junior’s hands on her hips. There was a lighthearted tone to his voice, and an obvious tinge of relief to wash it down, but Steve furrowed his brow in secondhand upset. He grumbled that he never liked dances. Never got the point of them, never found the thrill of spending money on an outfit only to have it ruined when your date dried her running mascara on your shoulder.

"It's stupid.“ He was never so negative, and about something so petty. Connor shrugged to seem indifferent. He mused that they had the potential to be something more, if the time’s spent wisely.

And then he froze. He froze despite the balmy spring heat and the hundreds of people sweating in the gym. He froze because he could feel Steve Blade staring at him. With his beautiful brown eyes. Staring down at Connor’s chapped lips, mouth half cracked in a grin. He reached into his jacket pocket for his car keys and muttered something about ditching.

It was surprisingly easy for them to sneak out the doors by the stairwell, down the back of the school and into the drizzle. Connor’s poor Mormon heart was beating through his chest with the newfound adrenaline. One of his childish, high-pitched giggles revved in the back of his throat.

"My mom would be so angry if she knew.”

Steve smiled. He nodded knowingly. And then, as if to make matters worse, he pulled Connor in by his tie and kissed him deep.

Connor’s braces clipped Steve’s tender bottom lip when he fell backwards. He apologized over and over again into the boy’s ear between sloppy kissing and feverish palming. Apologizing seemed to be the theme of the night, in fact. It happened again when Steve unfastened Connor’s belt and zipped down his fly. And again when he moaned like a slut at the slightest touch to his cock. Especially when he came with a cry after less than a minute of the most incredible–and only–blowjob he’d ever received. 

Steve was laughing that devilishly handsome laugh. A deep chuckle in his throat. His tongue lapped at the corners of his raw and reddened lips. Connor looked over his heaving chest with a hesitant smile. Steve Blade. Handsome Steve Blade, with Connor’s cum all over his handsome face. 

Steve Blade.

Connor froze again.

There was a stain on his pants. This tux was a rental.

His mom would be so angry if she knew. And come morning, she probably _would_ know.

Connor felt sick. He jolted up from his seat and wiggled back into his pants and bolted out the door into the rain. His mom would be so angry. The Church would be so angry.

There must’ve been something in the punch.


End file.
